We Waited
by riynariddle
Summary: Harry views the carnage of the last battle, and gets very angry at a certain dark lord. rated for swearing...


Harry closed his eyes.

The terrible scene didn't go away, shining like a beacon inside his head.

So Harry opened his eyes, and still it remained.

At least it was over now. The war was over. Voldemort had disappeared once more, and all the Deatheaters had been killed. Yet so many of his own side had died too. So many. So many.

It was dark now, but the air still glowed with magic. The stars shone dimly, cruelly almost, over the battlefield; over all the dead bodies.

Harry sighed, and glanced around. Some were so mangled it was impossible to tell for whom they had been fighting. Others looked as if they were about speak, unuttered words forever frozen on their cold and bloodless lips. Harry turned away, and continued walking.

The stench. It was dreadful. Blood. Magic. Silent screams hanging on still air. Deafening silence. Rotting. Death.

Harry closed his eyes. Blocking out the sight for a second. Focusing on the buzzing thoughts in his head. _Where was he? Where was he? He wasn't dead. Where?_

Malfoy had joined them only moments before the final battle. He'd realised what a fool he'd been, following his father. At any other time, they would've laughed. But there'd been no time for laughing. So many were dead, and so many as good as. 

The Weasleys. Fred and George had fallen around half way through. Ginny had gone long ago, right at the beginning. Molly? Arthur? Charlie had been only metres away from Harry. He could've saved him, had he seen soon enough. But it was too late. Bill. Died a short while after. 

Ron. Where was Ron?

Harry groaned and shook his head. Too many deaths. But many had been Deatheaters, which helped. Harry had seen Malfoy, no Draco. Harry had seen Draco kill his own father. Harry had been by his side when Draco himself had fallen. _But where was he? He wasn't dead. Where?_

What had that been? A slight movement, under the gnarled tree. Harry squinted, shading his eyes against the glow. Red. Red blood. Red hair.

'Ron!' Harry yelled, running over to him. 'Ron! God, Ron!'

'Harry?' Ron struggled to sit up, peering at Harry through the dry blood that caked his face. 'You alright?'

''Course I am, Ron! How are you?' Harry knelt down by his friend and clutched his hand. 'God. You're freezing.'

'Don't matter.' Ron shook his hand away, and lifted his head, staring up at Harry. 'I'm dying, ain't I?'

'No, Ron! Don't ever say that, boy!' 

'Don't lie.' Ron laughed dryly, and coughed. He closed his eyes, and clutched at Harry. 'Voldemort isn't dead, is he?'

'No. But we'll get him. He's weak, and no one is left to help him. We'll get him, Ron.'

Ron slowly nodded, eyes still closed, and leaned back against the tree. His breathing was harsh, and he was covered blood. 

'Tell Hermione... Tell her I'll wait for her. Okay? Don't forget that, Harry. Tell her I love her.'

'Ron.' Harry choked out the words, wiping the tears away from his blood stained cheeks. 

'Tell her that... Okay?' Ron coughed again, blood. He forced his eyes open once more, fixing Harry with his penetrating stare. 'She's dead, isn't she.' It was a statement, not a question. Harry nodded numbly. Ron nodded once again, and smiled wryly. 'I'll find her, though. You can bet on it. I'll find her. Then we'll... We'll wait for you... Harry.'

Harry bowed his head, and gently lay Ron down. He reached out a shaking hand, and closed Ron's eyes. Ron did not move. Ron did not breathe. Harry blinked away the tears, and stood up. Everyone was dead now. Everyone except _him_. _Where was he?_

'VOLDEMORT!' Harry yelled. 'WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?'

_Here_ hissed a voice, echoing dully in Harry's mind.

'What the...?' Harry spun around. He was still alone. 'Show yourself, you creep!'

_But Harry, would you really want to see me?_

'You killed him! You killed Ron! You bastard! Where the hell are you?!'

_Where you cannot get me, Harry_

'Yeah?' Harry sneered, 'And where might that be, _Tom_?'

_The one place, Harry, the one place where to kill me would be… suicide_

'What?' Harry froze, staring wide-eyed into the pitch sky. The voice in his head laughed, a cold high laugh that chilled him to the bones. 'You mean…?'

_Yes_

'Damn you, Riddle! _Damn you to Hell! _YOU KILLED THEM! YOU KILLED THEM ALL! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHERE YOU ARE! YOU KILLED EVERYONE I EVER LOVED…' Harry's enraged voice fell to a deadly whisper. '…And now, _I _am going to kill _you._'

_You wouldn't dare. If I go, you too shall die. You haven't the courage. You may be a _Gryffindor _but you're a coward_

'Yes,' replied Harry calmly, kneeling down in the mud and blood, and putting a hand on Ron's cold shoulder. 'I am, aren't I? I'm too scared to live without my friends. I'm too scared to live without my parents.'

_You wouldn't dare_

'Wouldn't I?' Harry sneered, standing up and pulling his wand solemnly out of his pocket. 

_No_

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, laughed, and pointed his wand at his own chest.

'_Avada Kedavra!'_

There was a flash of green light. 

Anyone who had been alive enough to stand by the tree, as the body of Harry fell silently to the ground, would've sworn they'd faintly heard laughter on the wind. Had they _really _strained their ears, they might've heard a proud voice declaring  _'We all waited for you…'_

But, as it were, nobody listened. Nobody heard. 

The world continued, and the stars shone.


End file.
